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I’ve always been the kind of person that hated people. Well, at least since I was about 13, I had a strong dislike for people and being around them. I didn’t like being in big groups, or even having anyone over or going to a friend’s house. I hated it. But now… now I’ve discovered that I don’t hate people. I want to be around people almost all the time. I want to be around the guy I am in serious like with, have him wrapped around me in more than just the physical sense. I want to be around my wonderful friends that write beautiful prose, or the ones that make beautiful films. I want to be around my friends who argue with me about silly things, or have long interesting discussions about what’s going on in the world. I want to be around the people who listen to music and get up to dance and sing. I love being around people who can carry on an intelligent or interesting or thought-provoking conversation. I love being able to walk around a college campus with some of my best friends, dressed well, and belting out A Very Potter Musical, while it snows. I love being able to hug someone or hold someone’s hand, whether they are a casual friend or a close friend or a boyfriend. I just… well…to quote Jenny Mellor;

I used to think I had you all figured out. I dreamt that I was going to be a published author, possibly even a bestselling one. But lately, I’m not sure. I still would love to do that, if I could for the life of me finish a novel. I stopped reading as much as I used to and the quality of my writing has suffered because of which. But e. lockhart also had that problem; she said that in high school she stopped reading as much and then picked it back up again and look where she is now. Maybe I could still be a writer, but there is that voice in my head that just keeps steering me away. I don’t have any credentials, other than the writing conference that I didn’t even attend. I’ve never gotten published, I’ve never gotten an award, so I won’t get into Iowa or any other college for writing because they’ll just think I suck, have no potential and am just a waste of time. The publishing industry is in shambles, so you need to be a REALLY FRAKING good writer to get a book published, and you suck, so just don’t. You can’t finish a novel anyhow, why bother trying? And so on.
But I do have potential. I’ve been told by the only English teacher who has ever affected me, Ms. Webb. She wrote on my writing portfolio grade sheet “Writing is hard work. Writers work hard. Amazing writers work harder.” At the time, I thought this was a diss to my writing, that by saying I have “potential” meant I sucked. But now, taking a step back (and realizing how much my current creative writing teacher sucks) this is probably the best advice anyone has ever given me, and probably the only honest thing I have ever heard from a teacher, or anyone really.
So, dreams, maybe I don’t know what you are yet. Maybe I do actually want to study marketing and advertising because I find it interesting, not because it’s a good fall back option. But, even if I don’t know what you are yet, I’ll get a glimpse of you when I close my eyes tonight. Hopefully.